


Valentine's Day Drabbles

by ArielT



Category: The Avengers (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Multi, multi-fandom drabble collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-28 15:23:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArielT/pseuds/ArielT
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Valentine's Day Drabbles written for friends and family. Pairings and fandoms will be added as appropriate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red Rose (Clint/Phil)

Clint hated Valentine’s Day. He’d hated the hypocrisy of his father bringing his mother a box of cheap chocolates on that day, as if it somehow made up for the abuse he heaped on her and his family the other 364 days. In the circus, it meant a day with no income since no one came to the circus on Valentine’s Day, and no income meant not eating. Post-circus, it meant a reminder that he was alone, that all he was good for was a quick hook-up because who would want a gun-for-hire for real?

He hadn’t hated it last year, though. No, last year, he’d understood the appeal when he opened his locker at SHIELD and found a single red rose waiting for him inside. There’d been another one tucked in his bow case (a little worse for the wear, but still beautiful). He’d found a third in his quiver when he went to the range. By the end of the day, he’d found a full dozen red roses, the last a tentative offering from Phil along with an invitation to dinner.

He slammed his fist into the wall next to his locker. Everywhere he went today, he was going to be reminded of what his inability to stop Loki from killing Phil and his own complicity in the attack. Fuck, he hated Valentine’s Day.

He opened his locker to toss his gear inside and gaped.

A single red rose.

In his locker.

“What sick fuck thought this was funny?” he snarled, spinning on his heel to look around the locker room and to stare up at the security cameras.

“No one.” Clint whipped around to face the door. Phil sat in a wheelchair, still hooked up to an IV and an oxygen tank, the rest of the dozen roses in his lap. “But I was afraid you wouldn’t accept my apology otherwise.”

“Phil?”

“He’s spent the last nine months in a coma and most of that with the doctors saying he wouldn’t last the night,” Fury said from behind the wheelchair. “Go easy on him.”

Clint seriously considered decking the Director for a moment but decided against it. “I’m hoping you’ll let me give you the rest instead of hiding them all over SHIELD like I did last year,” Phil said, drawing Clint’s attention back to him. “I’m a little incapacitated at the moment.”

“Just kiss him already,” Fury grumbled. “The doctors only gave him fifteen minutes before they want him back on the monitors.”

Another time, Clint might have made a snarky comment about Fury having voyeuristic tendencies, but he couldn’t be bothered now. Phil was there, in front of him, alive. He leaned over and did as Fury said, brushing his lips tenderly over Phil’s. Phil kissed him back and suddenly Valentine’s Day didn’t seem like such a hateful day after all.


	2. Late (Aragorn/Legolas)

Aragorn pushed his horse as hard as he dared across the plains of Rohan. He had left Minas Tirith later than planned, his duties to the Steward having taken more time than he had expected. How was he supposed to explain to an irascible Denethor that his duties were somehow less important than his presence in the Greenwood two days hence. Two days to cross Rohan and the Anduín and reach the outskirts of the great woods. He didn’t have to make it all the way to King Thranduíl’s palace. No, the edge of the woods was far enough, for there his heart would await him, beneath the bows of the trees where they had first walked together hand in hand as lovers. The constraints of their lives and their heritage—for Legolas was one of only a few Aragorn had trusted with his true identity—forced them to spend much of the year apart, but this one night was reserved for them. Not even the second coming of the Dark Lord would be enough to interrupt their tradition. Aragorn had sworn to that on the shards of Narsil, the one piece of his heritage he had at hand when they took their vows with only Lord Elrond and his sons as witness.

Two days.

He would not be late.


	3. Chocolate (Clint/Nick/Phil)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For weepingnaiad

"Here," Tony said, tossing a garishly wrapped package at Phil. "I got you three a Valentine's Day present."

Phil looked down at the gift the way one might examine a poisonous snake. "And why would you do that?"

"Well?" Clint said. "What are you waiting for, Phil? I want to know what he got us!"

Phil gave Clint his best quelling stare, but Clint had learned to ignore it years ago, so it rolled right off his back. Phil sighed and glanced at Nick who gestured for him to go ahead. Resisting the urge to sigh again, Phil undid the bow and opened the box... To find a collection of chocolate sex toys. "Mr. Stark, do you really think that's appropriate?"

Clint's face lit up and he grabbed the box from Phil to take a closer look. He chortled when he saw what was inside. "Can't get your rocks off, Tony? You're awfully interested in our sex life."

"Clint," Phil admonished, taking the box back. Nick peeked over the rim and stood up, grabbing the collar of Clint's jacket and gesturing for Phil to proceed him toward the elevator. He gave Clint a gentle shove and turned back to Tony, mouthing a silent "thank you" in his direction before stepping into the elevator and pushing the button for their floor.

When the laundry service called the next day to apologize for not being able to get the chocolate stains out of the sheets, Tony grinned and ordered a new set.

Mission accomplished.


	4. Volatile Substances (Clint/Tony)

“I told you that would work better,” Clint said when the mixture for the new explosive arrowhead he and Tony were developing flashed stronger and brighter behind the Plexiglas shielding. “There are a lot of things I don’t know, but explosives is one thing I do know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony grumbled. “Just because you figured out one thing doesn’t make you a genius, Cupid.”

“I never claimed to be a genius,” Clint said with a smirk, the kind that made Tony want to kiss him until he forgot everything but Tony’s name. “I just claimed to know a better way to combine volatile substances in a controlled setting to produce the desired outcome.”

“I’ll show you volatile substances,” Tony muttered, pushing Clint up against the table and kissing the smirk away.

An hour later, Clint stretched, a satisfied grin on his face as he watched Tony snoring next to him. “Goading his ego… works every time.”


	5. Bouquet (Bilbo/Thorin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Moonbean who requested bouquet and Saharra Shadow who requested the language of flowers.

Bilbo grumbled and wished once again for his garden at Bag End. This would be so much easier at home, where he had all his flowers at his fingertips and where he could find any he was missing from any of his innumerable neighbors.

“Laketown has markets,” he muttered to himself. “I can purchase what I need. I just have to decide what that is.”

Pink rose for admiration, for he had admired the Dwarf king from the very start. Dahlia for dignity, a trait perhaps not much admired in the Shire but one Bilbo found most compelling when he looked upon the object of his affections. A yellow rose would show his affection, but he already had a rose, and more than that, his emotions went far beyond affection. Perhaps a red morning glory for attachment? Snowdrops for hope? A red rose for love, and fern to tie it all together to show his sincerity.

It was a hodgepodge of flowers, but it would have to do. If he could find them all, of course. Perhaps he would have done better to go to the market first, but it was too late for that now. He had his list. A pink rose, a red rose, a dahlia and a fern for sure. Snowdrops and a red morning glory if he could find them.

An hour later, he had his flowers prepared. Now he had to find Thorin.

Of course the stubborn Dwarf was nowhere to be found. Bilbo searched in the house they’d been offered and everywhere else he could think of, but no Thorin. Bilbo considered asking one of the other Dwarves, but they would want to know why he was asking, and Bilbo didn’t want to explain, not until he knew how Thorin would react to his declaration.

Thorin returned in time for dinner, but Bilbo had no chance to speak to him alone. He bided his time, trying not to let his nerves show during dinner. Thorin had grown more sensitive to Bilbo’s moods and expressions since they had escaped Goblin Town and faced Azog in the aftermath, and Bilbo didn’t want Thorin asking why he was ill-at-ease in the middle of dinner with the entirety of the Company present.

Finally, dinner ended and the Dwarves dispersed, some to local inns and taverns for ale, others to places unidentified, but Thorin chose to retire to the room he had been given. Taking his Tookish courage in one hand and his bouquet in the other, Bilbo knocked on the door.

“Come.”

Bilbo stepped inside nervously, the flowers held behind his back.

“Bilbo? Is all well?”

“I believe so,” Bilbo said, “but I wished to speak with you without the others as audience.”

“There are none but us here now.”

Bilbo nodded and took another step into the room.  “I… I bought these for you today.”

He pulled the flowers from behind his back and offered them to Thorin.

Thorin took them and examined them closely. “They are lovely. When I worked in the towns of Men, I heard their women discussing the meanings behind the flowers they carried. Do Hobbits have such a language as well?”

“We do,” Bilbo said, feeling a blush climb up his cheeks. He had hoped Thorin would either know what the flowers meant or would simply accept them as a gift without digging deeper. “The fern is for sincerity, the snowdrop for hope, the morning glory for attachment, and the pink rose for admiration. I looked for a red rose and a dahlia as well, but the flower sellers had none.”

Thorin lifted the flowers to his nose and sniffed deeply. “What would they have added to your message?”

“Dignity, for it is one of the things I admire most about you,” Bilbo said, “and…”

“And?” Thorin prompted.

“And love.”

Bilbo could not look up after that declaration. He could not bear to see the rejection on Thorin’s face. Therefore he was completely unprepared for the arms that pulled him into an embrace, reminiscent of the one on the Carrock, but fraught with so much more emotion this time.

“I accept your gift gladly,” Thorin said in Bilbo’s ear, his beard tickling the sensitive flesh. “If you will be patient with me, I will answer you in the way of the Dwarves.”

Bilbo could be patient. The embrace was already more answer than he had ever imagined.


	6. Woo (Bruce/Tony)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Salixbabylon

Bruce slumped into his chair, his very comfortable, ergonomic chair that had appeared about a month into his tenure at the Tower after he’d walked into the common area one evening with a backache. He was a genius, the world’s foremost expert on gamma radiation. It couldn’t be that hard to figure out how to approach the Tower’s other resident genius.

Except that what did you get the man who had everything or could buy anything he didn’t already have that he wanted? Bruce might be a genius, but he wasn’t a rich one. He’d used what little savings he had getting away from Ross and had subsisted on what he could earn or barter in India and elsewhere once he’d escaped. Technically he was an Avenger now, so he had to be drawing a paycheck from somewhere, but he’d never actually seen a cent of it, mostly because he never got a chance to buy anything. Anything he needed appeared in his room or in the kitchen or in his lab within hours of him realizing he needed it, and sometimes even before he realized.

He certainly couldn’t afford to make some grand gesture, the kind that would catch Tony’s attention, and he’d already learned that anything short of a grand gesture would be lost on the other man.

“Excuse me, Dr. Banner. The other Avengers have gathered for dinner and wish to know if you’ll be joining them.”

“I’ll be up in a minute. Thank you, JARVIS.”

He ran his hands through his shaggy hair, trying to get his thoughts together enough to join the others. Apparently he wasn’t as speedy as he thought because before he had collected himself, the door to his lab swooshed open and Tony walked in. “Hey, Bruce. How’s the chair working out?”

“What? Oh, the chair is great. I thought I told you that.”

“You probably did, but I’m just checking. Blueberry?”

Bruce looked down at the container of fruit Tony held out to him and felt like an absolute idiot. He didn’t need to woo Tony. Tony had been wooing him from the beginning. He looked up and smiled. “Sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> These stories are being written in response to my offer to write drabbles for Valentine's Day. If you want to request one, come by my Tumblr: http://www.tumblr.com/blog/arieltachna


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